When Steve finally convinced Bucky to come home with him, it took him until they were already back in New York before he realized he should probably ask Stark first, seeing as it was his building and all.
“Well, if it isn’t my favorite Capsicle. What can I do for you?”
Steve paused for a moment, caught off guard by the other man’s light tone on the phone. He was never quite sure which version of Stark he was going to run into-- rude and obnoxious, or joking (if still sometimes annoying) and generous.
The inconsistency was one reason he tended to prefer the man’s bodyguard to the man himself. Iron Man was nothing if not dependable in battle, and when he, rarely, lounged around the Tower, he was good company.
“Uh, I, we…” Steve stammered for a moment, then paused and took a breath.
“I found Bucky,” he said, glancing over at his friend, who was eyeing him expressionlessly, but he gaze wasn’t as cold as it had been while he was still on the run.
“He agreed to come back with me, and I didn’t think, could--”
“The more the merrier,” Stark cut him off, “of course you can bring the Boogeyman here. Just tell Tall-Dark-and-Scarey that killing our friends is off-limits, and no trying to figure out Iron Man’s identity.”
Steve blinked, eyes sliding over to Bucky again. He had clearly heard the nicknames, and was glaring at the phone, but didn’t look overly murderous.
Any more than usual, anyway.
“Er, then, we’ll probably be back tomorrow, he can stay with m--”
“Nonsense, I have the space, he can have his own floor, same as the rest of you. He’s going to be an Avenger eventually, right? I’ll get JARVIS on it. Anything else, Cap?”
Steve blinked, feeling a bit like he’d been hit by Hurricane Stark (again).
“No, that’s it, tha--”
The line gave a telltale beep before he could get his thanks out.
He blinked at the phone before turning it off, looking back at Bucky again.
“Well,” Bucky said dryly, “quaint, ain’t he?”
Steve smiled apologetically.
“Stark’s... well, Stark, but his heart seems to be in the right place. He’s reckless and can be rude and flippant, but he’s funding the Avengers and gave us several floors at the top of his tower, so you learn to live with it.” He shrugged. “He even lends his bodyguard to us, more often than not. Iron Man, you’ll meet him, he’s--”
“We’ve met,” Bucky interrupted, quirking one eyebrow ever so slightly. “Didn’t I kick him off a building?”
Steve tried to hold back a wince and failed.
“Uh, well, he can fly, so I’m sure he won’t hold a grudge…”
Bucky looked less than convinced.
“Just so long as the ‘no killing’ rule doesn’t count if they start it,” he muttered, and Steve paled slightly.
Yeah.
This was going to go well.
---
The first time Stark and Bucky met face-to-face wasn’t until several days later, after Steve had introduced him to the rest of the team. The others were slightly guarded, but everyone was polite, and Iron Man reassured them that he didn’t hold a grudge against Bucky.
When Stark entered, it was in a whirlwind of activity.
Steve and Bucky were sitting at the island built into the kitchen counter, eating dinner, and Clint was in the living room watching something on the television, when Stark entered wearing jeans and a Black Sabbath t-shirt, making a beeline for the coffee machine.
“Stark, this is Bucky,” Steve introduced them. “Bucky, this is the Avengers’ benefactor, Tony Stark.”
Stark didn’t look up until the coffee was brewing, focused on his goal.
When he finally met first Steve’s eyes, then Bucky’s, he blinked, looking surprised that they were there for a moment. Then his brain clearly kicked into gear, and he grinned.
“If it isn’t the captain and Bucky Bear,” he said, and Steve glared in reply, while Bucky just stared back, not blinking.
“Oh no,” Stark gasped dramatically, “not the Captain America Is Disappointed In You face! Barton, go on without me, I won’t make it!”
He half-collapsed onto the counter, next to the still-gurgling coffee maker, and they could practically hear Clint roll his eyes in the next room.
“If you die, I claim your cars!”
Stark gasped and grabbed his chest as if Clint had shot him.
“I see how it is! You all just like me for my toys. See if you get that new bow you’ve been drooling over, Barton!”
There was a thud from the other room.
“Did I say I wanted your cars? Clearly I said I’ll defend you with life and limb,” Clint shouted back.
Stark snorted and pulled himself upright as the coffee finished.
He didn’t see Steve roll his eyes and shrug at Bucky.
Bucky didn’t see it either, too busy staring at Stark.
Steve frowned and lightly poked his friend in the side. Bucky twitched and met his questioning gaze, but merely blinked and said nothing, refocusing on his food.
“Right,” Stark said, after he’d drained his cup of coffee and started reaching for his second. “If you haven’t heard it enough yet, I’m Tony Stark. Welcome to my tower, yadda yadda, you’re practically an Avenger, it’s your home if you want it to be. Has the good Captain covered the house rules?”
Bucky stared.
“No killing teammates,” he said, his voice still sounding hoarse.
Stark blinked.
“Uh... yeah, pretty much, and--”
“Unless they start it,” Bucky added, and Steve winced, watching to see Stark’s reaction.
He only blinked again, looking like an owl for a moment, before he laughed into his coffee, shaking his head in dismissal.
“Uh, yeah... Stay out of my workshop unless invited, don’t bother Iron Man about his identity, and for everything else, there’s JARVIS. You’ve met JARVIS? He’ll tell you if you’re trying to go somewhere you shouldn’t.”
“Sergeant Barnes and I have been introduced,” JARVIS’s voice emitted from the speakers in the ceiling.
Bucky didn’t flinch, but Steve still jumped slightly, unused to the AI.
Stark nodded.
“That’s about it from me. I’ve got to run, you know, work to do and all that. I’ll see you around.”
Steve returned his wave goodbye, turning from his food to Bucky again, only so see his friend still looking at the doorway Stark had disappeared into.
“Everything okay?” He asked.
Bucky just turned back to his food, not replying.
A tiny frown creased his brow, but he didn’t respond to Steve’s questions.
---
Bucky couldn’t explain to Steve why something seemed off about Stark.
His instincts pulled at him, telling him there was something there, but he had no idea what that something was. It was the same feeling he had whenever Steve talked about growing up together and he could almost remember the story.
But he’d asked each Avenger, including the sometimes-elusive Iron Man, as well as JARVIS, and everyone reassured him that he’d never met Tony Stark before, even on any of the missions in his file.
Howard was another story, and when they decrypted that particular file, Bucky was sure Stark would throw him out of the tower. Instead, Stark had disappeared into his floor for several days and there was a significant dent made in his alcohol supply, but Bucky’s offer to stay was not retracted, and Stark even clapped him not-unkindly on the back a few days later, saying he wasn’t going to be kicked out, but quietly making it clear that the topic was closed.
No one brought it up again.
Despite all the reassurances, the nagging feeling did not go away, like a bad itch, and Bucky found himself haunting Stark around the tower.
The man held odd hours, but then so did Bucky, not needing much sleep and getting even less due to the dreams-- nightmares, really-- which he had whenever he shut his eyes.
So Bucky became Stark’s ghost in the tower. He followed him everywhere from the moment he entered the building to the moment he stepped either onto his floor, which was off-limits to the Avengers, or into the workshop if he engaged privacy mode.
Most of the time, however, Stark seemed surprised and a little perturbed by the attention, but he didn’t seem to actually mind, allowing Bucky into his workshop while he made improvements and repairs to the Iron Man suit and the Avengers gear.
Eventually Bucky would leave, or else Stark would need to go or he said that Iron Man (whoever he was under the armor) was coming back and Bucky needed to leave. When that happened, Bucky paused his haunting, sometimes stopping for food or to try and sleep for a short time, but inevitably he ended up as Stark’s shadow again.
He even fell asleep on the couch in the workshop before, loud music blasting and Stark talking to himself while working on some project.
It was one of the few times he slept without dreams.
During his vigils in the workshop with Stark were when Bucky began to notice something was wrong, however.
The first time Bucky asked about the bruises dotting Stark’s left arm and side, Stark froze over the gauntlet he was repairing, before turning to look down as if he’d not noticed the mottled purple and blue on his skin.
“Huh, didn’t even feel that... Uh, I’ll just go... ice this or something. Do you mind…?” Stark awkwardly shuffled him out of the workshop and disappeared into the kitchen, coming back with a bag of frozen peas, which he held against the bruises.
“I was working on a project earlier, must have happened then, uh, thanks for noticing,” he said, and fled into the elevator. JARVIS informed him that Stark had returned to his floor for the night.
Bucky’s instincts were nagging him more than ever, and he resolved to pay even more attention in the future.
Over the next several weeks, Bucky continued to ghost Stark around the tower, despite Steve pulling him aside and asking him what was wrong. Bucky didn’t have an answer for him, but didn’t stop his vigils.
The other Avengers seemed puzzled by his actions but left him alone. He thought he caught Iron Man giving him side-glances, but with the mask on it was hard to tell.
The bodyguard didn’t comment, however, which Bucky took as permission to continue, or at least a lack of protest against it.
---
Gradually, the Avengers began including Bucky in more of their missions, but when they returned to the tower, he waited until the debrief was over, then asked Iron Man where Stark was.
Sometimes Stark was busy at SI, but often Iron Man would go down to the workshop, presumably change out of the armor, and once he was gone, JARVIS would notify Bucky to either meet Stark in the workshop or, if he had repairs to make and didn’t want company, Stark would join him later on the common floor.
After one particularly bad day for the Avengers, Bucky didn’t have the energy to go chasing after Stark, and instead retreated to his floor.
It was fairly plain with minimal furniture, but what was present was extremely comfortable, and both the couch and the bed was placed so there were good sightlines to the doors.
Stark never said anything, and had apparently sworn JARVIS to silence, but Bucky could tell it had taken some thought.
Bucky was crouched on the couch, tense and cleaning his knives, when there was a knock at the door.
Stressed enough to render him quiet, instead of speaking, he gestured at once of the tiny sensors he’d spotted in the ceiling, and JARVIS quickly passed on the permission to enter. It was something they’d worked out soon after he moved in, when he realized he didn’t always want to speak.
The door opened slowly, and Bucky expected Steve to be the one to poke his head in.
Instead, it was Stark, carrying a tablet and a large bowl of something.
When he met Bucky’s eyes, Stark shifted awkwardly.
“Uh, I don’t know if you want company, but I brought popcorn?” He held up the bowl, and Bucky caught a whiff of the scent.
It smelled good.
Bucky nodded, and if he hadn’t been following Stark around for so long, he’d have missed the look of relief that flickered across his face.
Stark sat on the far end of the couch and placed the large bowl in the middle, focusing his attention on the tablet in his hands and leaving Bucky to his knife cleaning. Both men occasionally reached out to grab a few kernels, but otherwise acted as if the other wasn’t there.
It was nice, until Stark reached out for popcorn once more, and Bucky bumped hands with him.
He glanced up, exchanging an apologetic look with Stark, and spotted dark purple on his skin, just barely covered by his shirt sleeve.
Staring harder, Bucky also spotted marks near the man’s collarbone, obscured by some sort of heavy makeup.
Bucky stayed silent, but Stark must have caught him looking, because he tugged his sleeves down a little more and his collar up. When they met eyes, Stark’s were slightly hard in a way that bore no questions. Bucky nodded slightly, and Stark returned to his tablet.
This time, however, Bucky found himself polishing his knives with a little more force than necessary.
---
Now that he was looking for it, Bucky saw bruises on Stark an awful lot.
They seemed to increase in frequency while Iron Man was away, on loan to the Avengers or out of town doing something for SI.
One time after a mission, Iron Man missed Stark by only moments, going down to the workshop in preparation for another favor for SI less than a minute before Stark appeared, slightly out of breath, apologizing to the Avengers for keeping them waiting.
Steve accepted his apology and gestured for him to start the meeting, demonstrating the new upgrades to their gear. At the end of the meeting, Stark promised he’d show Iron Man the upgrades to his armor later, apologizing again for missing him.
Bucky barely heard anything Stark said during the demonstration, too focused on the burn-like marks on Stark’s hands, and the barest hint of blood around the edge of his hairline.
After noting the pattern for nearly two months, Bucky went to Steve.
They went to Stark together, finding him down in his workshop, repairing the armor once more after it had been damaged by one of Iron Man’s trips out of town.
When Stark saw their grave and worried expressions, the smile fell off his face.
“I know those looks,” he said, sounding resigned. “What did I do wrong? I usually know, but nothing comes to mind.”
Bucky blinked, and Steve frowned.
“You didn’t do anything wrong. We’re here to talk about Iron Man,” he said.
Stark sighed, waving away the holograms he’d been working with, dropping onto a stool.
“What did Iron Man do?” He asked, face tightening slightly.
“Look, Stark, it’s great having Iron Man with the Avengers, but--”
“It’s fine, you don’t have to explain. I’ll tell him he’s off the team, I’m sure whatever he did was--”
Both Bucky and Steve’s jaws slackened, shocked by the jumps Stark kept making in the conversation.
“Wait, we don’t want to kick Iron Man off the team,” Steve exclaimed, taking a step forward.
Stark froze, mid-sentence.
“You don’t?” He blinked.
“No!” Steve sighed. “We love having him around. But if loaning him to us is getting you hurt, he’s supposed to be your bodyguard, we’d understand if you need him around more.”
An expression of utter alarm crossed Stark’s face, and Bucky found himself frowning again.
“No! No, it’s fine. I don’t mind loaning him to you guys, and I know he likes working with you. I don’t need him around more, it’s fine.” Stark waved his hands as he talked, frantically rejecting the offer.
He was so alarmed, a bad thought passed through Bucky’s mind, and he could see the moment when it occurred to Steve too.
There was a pause, long enough for Stark’s face to shift to confusion again.
Bucky could see Steve shaking slightly.
Or maybe that was him.
“Your... bruises,” Steve began, balling his hands into fists. “They’re not…”
He paused, struggling, and Stark looked somewhere between alarmed and horrified now.
That only made Bucky more worried that they were right.
“... Iron Man didn’t... .did he?” Steve managed.
Stark had shifted into full horror now.
“No!” He jumped up, frantically motioning even more than before. “No, how could you even think he would-- I..”
He paused and took a deep breath.
“No, Iron Man didn’t... hit me, or whatever you’re thinking. I just... it’s private, but you don’t need to worry about me. I’m fine. If I need him, I’ll take him with me, but otherwise he’s all yours. It’s all good; I’m good, he’s good, you’re good, we’re good.”
Stark continued staring at both of them until Steve nodded, but he and Bucky were still frowning, not taking much comfort in that.
“I... I’ll respect your privacy,” Steve said, nodding once, “but you know you can talk to us if you need us, right? You might not be an Avenger, but we’ll still protect you.”
Stark took a moment to swallow, then nodded.
“Uh,” he paused again to clear his throat, “Yeah, Captain, I’ll keep that in mind.”
Steve left, but Bucky stayed, waiting for Stark to do something.
For a moment, Stark just returned his stare, but then he sighed, deflating like a popped balloon.
“I get it, you’re trying to be protective or something. But leave it alone, okay?” Stark asked, and after a moment, Bucky nodded.
Stark smiled suddenly, spinning around.
“Okay, back to work! J, bring up something for me to do, and cue the music!”
Bucky stayed for another hour, quietly camping on a stool in the corner, but he wasn’t reassured.
He could see how Stark’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.
---
This pattern went on for months, and Bucky grew increasingly concerned, convinced that Stark was in some sort of abusive relationship. Any time he thought he was close to finding proof, however, Stark became evasive, hiding in the workshop more and avoiding the common areas. Bucky would then draw back until he resumed his normal behavior, and then the cycle repeated.
It might have gone on forever, except something changed.
One night, after another particularly bad night for the Avengers, Bucky was alone in his room, the only person left awake.
He’d tried to take a nap earlier, only to jolt back away, sweating with a scream dying in his throat.
He hated Hydra.
Instead of sleeping, he put on a pot of coffee and starting drinking his way through it.
He was on his third cup when JARVIS informed him that Stark was also awake, working in his workshop.
Bucky took the statement for the suggestion that it was, and brought the coffee with him.
Stark welcomed him as if he was bringing gold, cradling his cup of coffee and draining it reverently.
Bucky perched on a stool again to keep watching him work, and was eyeing a healed-over cut on Stark’s left side which showed when he reached up to repair part of a mostly assembled armor, when he suddenly sucked in a breath.
This promptly set off a coughing fit, as he’d been attempting to take a sip of his coffee.
After a moment of hacking, Stark started pounding his back, and Bucky regained control of himself to find Stark eyeing him with concern, for once.
“Hey, One-Armed Bandit, you doing okay there? Cap’ll kill me if you die down here.”
Bucky breathed in, then gave a shaky smile.
“Yeah, I was just... thinking.”
Stark gave him a strange look, but shrugged it off, turning back to the Iron Man armor.
“Well don’t strain yourself,” he joked, and earned himself a glare.
Then Bucky looked at Stark with a new eye when he returned to work.
His theory seemed glaringly obvious in light of seeing the man standing next to the suit of armor.
Abruptly, Bucky wasn’t in the workshop anymore.
He was wearing the gear of the Winter Soldier, having just been briefed on his latest mission.
A few of the Hydra agents guarding him were watching the news and talking to each other while they waited.
One of the agents made a scornful noise at the television.
“I can’t believe that idiot actually listened to Fury,” the agent said.
The other laughed. It was not a kind sound.
“Yeah, and it doesn’t exactly inspire confidence in the Avengers, that none of them could even figure out that Stark is in the suit. As if anyone that paranoid would let someone else wear it,” the second agent replied.
The two agents kept talking, mocking the Avengers and SHIELD, but Bucky blinked out of the memory, the workshop coming into focus again.
Feeling shaken, Bucky watched Stark for a moment more, grounding himself, then waited until Stark wasn’t holding anything that looked especially dangerous or fragile to speak.
“You must think we’re idiots,” he said with no preemption.
Stark hummed for a moment, then seemed to rewind the sentence in his head and froze.
“Uh, what?” He asked, half-turning around.
“For not guessing it,” Bucky continued, “particularly me. I’ve been following you for months and thought you were in an abusive relationship.”
Stark flinched, staring at Bucky with wide eyes.
“Uh, Bucky, I--”
“Don’t bother,” Bucky said, glaring. “I can see it now. You’re him. You’re Iron Man.”
For a moment, he thought Stark was going to deny it, but then the man deflated, sinking in on himself.
He dropped the wrench he was holding and sighed, sitting against one of his work tables.
“No one was supposed to figure it out,” he said, and Bucky took it for an admission. “Tony Stark is the Merchant of Death, not a hero. Iron Man is the Avenger. Yes to Iron Man and no to Tony Stark, and all that.”
Bucky’s eyes narrowed slightly.
“I won’t tell anyone if you don’t want me to,” he offered, and Stark whipped his head up to meet his eyes, “but the others will figure it out eventually. They like Tony Stark too, they’re not going to kick you off the team when they accepted the Winter Soldier.”
“Ex-Winter Soldier,” Stark corrected, not sounding convinced, “and you didn’t choose to join Hydra. I made my own decisions.”
“Then you did your best to correct the wrong ones,” Bucky argued back.
Stark looked ready to continue protesting, but suddenly sighed instead.
“You really won’t tell the others? Even Steve?” He asked.
“It’s not my secret to tell,” Bucky said, nodding once, then followed Stark when he walked to the elevator.
“I need more coffee. I was not expecting that tonight,” he muttered, sipping the last dregs of coffee directly from the pot Bucky had brought.
Bucky stood slightly behind him in silence, trying not to stress out the other Avenger even more.
After an awkward pause, he opened his mouth one more time.
“I should probably tell Steve you’re not being abused, though,” he muttered.
Stark promptly choked on the dregs.